Curses and Crossroads
by LyricalKris
Summary: Trust your heart? Bull. Bella's heart always beat double time for the bad boy. Not the woefully misunderstood, but the ones that marked her body, heart, and criminal record. Then there was Edward. He could destroy her life whether she gave him her heart or not. Her mother thought it was an age old curse. Black magic? That's a strange excuse for being straight out messed up.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! Welcome to this, another tale.**

 **Dedication: To Mina. The bunny was hers. She gifted it to me. Baby, you are a treasure in this fandom. I heart you, and I hope you enjoy this story.**

 **Special thanks: To Sassafrass Mage. Thank you for the fodder. You unwittingly solved a problem I was having with this story. It needed a vehicle, and you gave me a spark.**

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They met at a crossroads in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere.

Edward loved the open road. There wasn't much appealing about Texas, but the long stretches of deserted freeways were a definite highlight. The oppressive heat of the day rolled away along with most of the people.

His girlfriend had asked him once why he was so enamored with the fact his car could reach obnoxiously high rates of speed. As though he was ever going to get above ninety under any circumstance in normal traffic. Well, that was why God made desert flats and pavement. With only truckers on the road with him, he was free to fly at unwise and illegal speeds.

There were places, though, where freeway turned into highway, and darkness overwhelmed the landscape. The outline of the land at night made the scene outside his car window spooky and surreal. The cornfields encroached on either side. Edward had to laugh at himself and his sudden bout of nerves. This was straight out of a horror film or at least The X-Files.

He took a deep breath to dispel the irrational fear and turned his sound system up higher. He sang along.

The tall corn turned into flatter fields, and here and there, a road intersected the highway. That was where he saw her.

It took him a minute to figure out what he was seeing. It was unfathomable to him that anyone could possibly be out in this darkness, so his mind didn't automatically understand. She stood at the crossroads - a lone figure on foot, duffel over one shoulder and her hood obscuring her face. Not that it mattered in the dead of night like this. She hunched inward as he drove past, her eyes following his car.

He slammed on the brakes before he made a conscious decision and then pulled off the road. He got out of the car in time to see the girl was walking away from him as quickly as she could, throwing furtive glances over her shoulder as she did.

"Hey, hold on. Wait a second," he called. _Idiot_ , he admonished himself. She had to be worried for the exact same reason he was scared for her. Out here in the middle of the night, he could have been anyone. He could grab her, toss her in his trunk, and no one would ever know.

He tamped down the urge to run after her and tried again. "Look, I'm staying right here. Hands on the car." He put his hands on the roof of his car. "Just wait a second."

She paused mid-step but didn't turn around right away. Edward saw her tilt her head to the left and right. She knew as well as he did, if he was after something nefarious, it wasn't as though she could hide. He had a car, and she was on foot. Her gaze seemed to be concentrated on the field, her stance twitchy. He wondered if she was thinking about bolting.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," he said, feeling foolish and out of his depth. He'd taken so many road trips as a child. Whenever they passed a hitchhiker, his mother had always fretted about that person, wondering what led them to do such a dangerous thing. But this woman wasn't hitchhiking. Still... "I just thought maybe you'd like a ride."

Her huff was audible in the still night despite the distance between them. She turned around, readjusting her duffel on her shoulder. "I'll pass. Thanks," she said.

He'd expected her voice to shake. It was clear and strong. Her posture was hunched-defensive-but there was strength there too. If she was a damsel in distress, she wasn't going to wilt under the pressure.

"It's just that it's a lot of miles to anything resembling civilization, and there are a lot of crazy people out there," he said.

She laughed and tilted her head, fixing him with a sardonic expression. "Yeah. Some of them might even be trying to lure women into their cars under the context of being a good Samaritan." She clucked her tongue. "Can't trust anyone these days."

He had to smile. On a whim, he tossed his keys so they landed at her feet. "You can drive."

Her eyes popped wide. " _That_ car? I don't know much about cars, but that's a fancy car."

"Drives like a dream."

"You don't even know if I have a license."

"Do you?"

"Well, yeah, but you don't know me from Eve. What if I'm a murderer?"

"You weren't hitchhiking. You weren't trying to get a ride, so I'm pretty sure you're not trying to kill me."

At that, she snickered. "Haven't you ever seen any crime show serials? Serial killers don't always plan their murders. Sometimes they just take the opportunity when it comes along."

He shrugged. "I'll take my chances."

She shouldered the duffel again, looking around, doubt written all over her features. She grunted and looked at him, as though irritated his offer was tempting. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere in particular. I'm just driving."

"Oh, sure. That's convenient. Just out for a midnight drive in the middle of nowhere."

"It's a roadtrip."

"To nowhere?"

"Sure." He shrugged again. "You know. It's one of those meandering, find yourself kind of things."

Her lips quirked, and she sighed. She tapped her foot, looking off to the side. Slowly, she leaned down to pick up the keys. "You can drive," she said, tossing them back. "And if it's really no trouble, yeah, a ride would be great."

 _ **~0~**_

There was a reason so many stories started the same way. It was a tale as old as the world. He was a spoiled boy whose life had become too predictable. She would have given anything for steadiness and security. They were from different sides of the tracks, opposite walks of life. Name the cliché, and they fit it.

It didn't take much to figure out she was running from something. Someone, Edward would have wagered, judging by the bruises he glimpsed on her arms and the faded marks around her neck. He wanted to protect her. But she was a conundrum. She exuded an air that suggested she was used to saving herself, yet there were times when her fear and vulnerability shone through. Edward was hopelessly intrigued.

From the minute Marie Higginbotham got in his car, Edward never stood a chance.

They had one full day together-and that, an adventure from start to finish. Around midnight the next day, Edward finally pulled into a rest area. He fell asleep with her sweet kiss on his lips. When dawn broke, he was alone. She had disappeared, and the cash contents of his wallet had gone with her. She'd left behind only one scrap of evidence she'd ever been there at all. Two words scrawled on the back of a receipt, tucked into his billfold where his money had been.

 _ **I'm sorry.**_

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 **A/N: Thanks, as always, to the lovely ladies who make my writing better. Packy 2.0, songster, MoH, barburella.**

 **On a personal note, my book, Finding Purgatory, is free for the next five days. Today is my birthday! So a new story, plus a promotion is my present to me. If you're interested, please consider reading and reviewing my original work. :) Links to all my books are in my profile.**

 **See you all soon. Mwah!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Happy belated birthday to Mina. Her banner is GORGEOUS as per usual. I know I haven't uploaded it to yet, but it's in my FB group if you want to take a gander. It should be up soon.**

 **Anyway. Happy birthday to one of the kindest, talented people I know.**

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Bella woke up with a groan. She was sore. Why was she sore? Sore and…

Sticky. Oh. _Oh._

Bella squeezed her eyes tightly shut and took a shaky breath, trying to orient herself. She wasn't at home. Oh, this wasn't good. She tried to remember everything that had happened the night before.

If there was one thing Bella was certain of, it was that there was something wrong with her. There was no other conclusion to come to when every major disaster had one thing in common—her.

Victim blaming aside—no one deserved the things that had been done to her—there had to be something straight out fucked in her subconscious. There were a lot of great guys out there. Statistically, even if it didn't work out in the long run, she should have had one good experience with a guy. She didn't. Not a single one.

Six years ago, after a boyfriend got her in trouble with the law, she'd run away from everything she'd ever known—including her name—and had vowed never to trust her own judgment again. Well, that was easier said than done. She was all alone in the world, which meant she was lonely. She was a good-looking woman, a bartender. People were going to flirt with her, and sometimes… sometimes she couldn't help but respond.

In six years, she'd succumbed a total of four times. She'd tried to be smart about it, had tried dating—holding out to the fifth or sixth date before she let it go further than a kiss. She'd dated one of the assholes for six months. That one had managed to hide a drug addiction from her until he ran out of money and sold her laptop for a fix.

This was the first time she'd gone home on a one-night stand. Not that she was opposed to the idea. Sex was good—life affirming, fun, good exercise. It just seemed like courting danger when Bella had proved to herself over and over that she simply wasn't a good judge of character.

Last night, there'd been two guys vying for attention. They'd made a contest of it. A friendly kind of contest that all three of them were well aware of, and she'd egged them on a bit in a good natured way. Oh, but they were sweethearts. Not raunchy or grabby.

When her shift was over, just before midnight, she'd left the bar to find one of the guys outside smoking a cigarette. He saw the way she eyed it—there were days she missed her smoking habit so much—and offered her one. Then…

Well. It hadn't been a bad night; that was all. They were at a hotel. Not a great one, but not a fleapit either. He'd paid.

Which lead her to this morning. Bella took a deep breath, coming all the way awake. She reached out, gingerly patting the bed beside her. Empty. She opened one eye and looked around the room. She was alone. She listened for noises from the bathroom. No, she was definitely alone in the room. Maybe he was getting breakfast?

Yeah, right. Bella sat up in bed and glanced around the room. There was no trace of him. Then again, it wasn't like he'd come here with much. A thought occurred to her, and she cast a frantic look in the direction she vaguely remembered throwing her clothes.

Oh, good. Shirt and pants present and accounted for. How about…

Bella's heart sunk, and she flopped back down on the bed with a groan. Her purse was open, and even from where she was on the bed, she could see the wallet was gone.

She waited for her eyes to sting and tears to start, but it didn't happen. She was more tired than anything. It wasn't as though it was a surprise. Or if it was, the surprise was in the how mild the betrayal was. A missing wallet wasn't so bad, all things considered. She never kept much money on her. She would have put odds on waking up to a missing kidney, if anything.

Then again, she was somewhat far from home—why had she let him talk her into _this_ particular hotel—with no way to get back. Bella threw an arm over her eyes. She needed five or ten minutes before she could figure out that predicament.

Though she wasn't surprised—couldn't be surprised at this point—Bella's aching heart wouldn't let her simply not think about it. Despite her best efforts to distract herself, she started to replay the night over and over in her head, wondering where she'd gone wrong. What could have clued her in that this guy was an asshole.

It hadn't escaped her notice that there'd been two guys again that night.

Bella growled into the pillow. "Don't start that again," she mumbled to herself.

The answer to Bella's question about where she'd gone wrong had to be linked back to her mother, though she couldn't quite figure out how. They had the same affliction. Bella had spent most of her life being dragged around the country after Renee's latest squeeze. To say she hadn't set the best example in choosing a potential mate would have been putting it politely.

Her mother had a bizarre and insane theory. Like most everything Renee spouted, her theory conveniently excused her from taking any kind of responsibility for her own actions.

Bella had first heard the story when she was fourteen.

 _Thus far, she wasn't an overly dramatic teenager, so when Renee heard her hysterical sobs, she ran. She found Marie crumpled on her bed, face down, crying miserably into her pillows. Boy problems. There was no doubt about that, but Renee hoped against hope it wasn't the kind of boy problems she suspected._

 _Renee sat on the edge of Marie's bed, checking her over as she tried to coax her into a more coherent space. After all, there were many kinds of boy problems. Marie seemed whole, though, unbruised._

 _Maybe one of her classmates had died. It was a horrible thing to hope for, but Renee was Marie's mother. She wanted what was best for her child. The death of a classmate was something Marie would heal from. If this was what Renee suspected, it would mean a lifetime of heartache and unhappiness._

" _Baby, come on. Calm down. Tell me what happened."_

 _Renee was finally able to coax Marie upright and into her arms. For such a skinny, gangly little thing, she had a strong grip. She nearly choked Renee as she threw her arms around her, burying her face at her mother's neck._

 _It was hard to understand her; she was crying too hard, but slowly, the truth came out. Renee didn't actually need the whole story. She heard the right keywords—the names of two different boys. Marie, androgynous and shy, had never caught the attention of a boy before, let alone two. She was a freshman. They were both older than her. And sweet. And funny. And they wanted to sit next to her at lunch and at pep rallies. It all got out of Marie's incapable hands too quickly. She chose the older of the two—the one who had been wooing her on a dare. The boy made sure he humiliated not only her, but the other boy as well._

 _Now, one boy was laughing at her and the other hated her. Of course._

" _Oh, baby." Renee closed her eyes, rocking her daughter._

 _Some time later, when Marie was finally calm, resting with her head pillowed on her shoulder as her mother stroked her hair, Renee decided it was time to tell her the story. "I want to tell you that this kind of thing happens to so many girls, people, really. I want to tell you this was just a fluke. Bad things are going to happen to everyone, baby. That's just life; you can't escape that."_

 _She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as heartache washed over her. "I hoped - I still hope — it would be different for you, because your father… he wasn't the wrong choice. You and your father were my glimpse—what my life could have been if we weren't cursed."_

 _Marie sniffled. "What are you talking about?" she asked, sounding tired and confused._

 _Again, Renee sighed. She closed her eyes and told her daughter a story._

 _ **~0~**_

Once upon a time, in the seventeen hundreds, in the English countryside, there were two beautiful little girls. The daughters of wealthy aristocrats, and they lived privileged lives. They were best friends—bonded at infancy by the their mothers who were likewise life-long companions. Their names were Thomasin and Hester.

When they entered their teens, like all girls of their station, they became more aware of their eventual lot. They would marry men like their fathers—powerful and wealthy. They would keep house like their mothers, throwing grand parties, keeping themselves and their families at the center of society's eyes.

When the girls were sixteen, Hester fell in love. He could have been anyone. They met while she was on an errand in town. It was one of those stories. At first, she was annoyed at his impertinence and the fact he seemed to be in her way. Though she called him terribly rude, what she actually meant was he was the first young man who did not fall all over himself to please her. It was a fact that so vexed her, Hester could not stop thinking about him.

William wasn't what anyone would call a good match for Hester, but he was no pauper either. His father ran a business that, while small, made him well-to-do. The business was only growing, and William was a smart lad. There was no doubt he would go on to do his father proud in this regard.

Some months later, after intense dislike had turned into an even more intense love, Hester confessed to Thomasin their plans to marry. William would ask for her hand, of course, but Hester feared her parents, her mother in particular, would say no outright. If they did, Hester said she and William would elope.

It was only days later that Thomasin and William were found in a compromising position. William, who seemed quite bewildered by the whole ordeal, was made to agree to a marriage between him and the girl he'd sullied. It was a shock to all, for Thomasin had already made a good match with a man who was of the nobility, possessed of good looks and a fine character, _and_ her true equal.

What must be understood now was a simple truth—magic exists. Like all unexplained and yet true things, the myth of magic was far grander than truth. Magic was not the grandiose thing tales like Harry Potter might lead you to believe, but it does exist. Conjurers, sorcerers, witches. Whatever they might be called, Hester was one of a long line.

In her heartache, Hester cast a curse. To the detriment of Thomasin, her daughter, her daughter's daughter, and so on throughout time. All the women of Thomasin's line were cursed in love. Cursed to fail. Cursed to fall into the wrong hands. Cursed by the gift of choice. Where there was a bad match, there would always be a better one, and Thomasin's descendants were doomed to make the wrong choice.

 _ **~0~**_

" _You and I are descendants of Thomasin," Renee said. "The curse is real. Look back to your grandmother, your great-aunt, your great-grandmother. There was always a choice, and we made the wrong one."_

 _Marie was quiet for a minute, playing with a strand of her mother's hair. "But you said Charlie… Dad wasn't the wrong choice."_

" _No. He was perfect for me," Renee said, her heart twisting with the ache of old loss._

" _But you did choose him. The right choice."_

" _No, I didn't. I tried to choose him, but at the time we were together, my heart had already made a different choice. I tried. I married Charlie, obviously, but it was a dishonest promise. My heart still wanted the resident bad boy. How cliche is that?" Renee huffed, laughing at herself. "In the end, he was the one who convinced me to leave my husband."_

" _The wrong choice," Marie said, her voice numb._

" _Yes. And by the time I figured that out, it was too late for me and your dad. But you're the daughter of the right man. I so hoped you would never have to face the things we have for centuries."_

 _Marie sat up on the bed, her expression fierce again. "Every curse can be broken."_

 _Renee sat up slowly and brushed her daughter's hair out of her face. "In fairytales. In reality…"_

" _Or countered," Marie said._

 _Oh, to be young and hopeful again. Renee cupped her daughter's cheek. "Marie, if anyone can beat this curse, it'd be you."_

Twenty-eight-year-old Bella laughed bitterly into the hotel pillow. Ages old curses? Yeah fucking right. She needed therapy, not a counter-curse.

Then again, the therapy hadn't worked either. Whatever. There was more to life than being with a man.

Bella sat up again and rubbed her eyes. It was time to contemplate how she was going to go about this walk of shame. She had two friends, either of whom would have gladly come to pick her up. The problem with each of them was the lectures she'd get.

Well, from Angela—a pastor's daughter—it wouldn't be a lecture. She was a sweet girl who honestly didn't judge. She'd simply been raised to believe that women who enjoyed sex were disrespecting themselves and their bodies. It honestly perplexed her when people went home with partners they barely knew. Bella had heard the incredulity in her voice—why would a person _want_ to treat themselves like that—and had no desire to hear those innocent comments aimed at her. She'd already tried to explain gently that a person choosing to enjoy sex for the sake of sex wasn't disrespecting anyone, but that conversation hadn't gone very well. She had no desire to repeat it today.

Eric, on the other hand, would be full of lectures. Then again, Eric was of the impression he could solve all Bella's man-related woes. He would berate her for not consulting him before she chose anyone. In theory, it wasn't a bad idea. After all, it was clear Bella couldn't trust herself. But she had met too many of Eric's boyfriends to trust his taste either. Codependent much?

No, Bella wasn't in any mood to deal with either of them right then.

A cab it was.

An hour later, Bella was showered and waiting in the lobby, tapping her leg restlessly. The cab pulled up. The driver got out, and when Bella raised her head, he stumbled to a stop. His eyes went wide and then narrowed. His lip curled down at one corner.

Bella furrowed her eyebrows and looked away. She didn't know what the hell his problem was, but she didn't care either. He was a way to get from point A to point B. She shouldered her empty purse and walked forward.

The cabbie cleared his throat and started moving again. He opened the back door for her. "Luggage?"

Bella felt her cheeks burn. "No."

She thought she heard him scoff, but that could have been her imagination. Again, she told herself it didn't matter. What the hell did she care what some random ass cabbie thought of her. After she gave the address of the bar she worked, she leaned her forehead against the cool glass and watched the city go by.

After a few minutes, an eerie feeling began to crawl along the back of Bella's neck. They pulled up to a red light, and she caught the cabbie starring at her in the rearview mirror. He averted his eyes quickly, but not fast enough for Bella not to be sure of what she'd seen.

Irritation made her bristle, but she held her tongue. A to B, she reminded herself. She was a bartender. It wasn't like this cabbie was the only creeper she'd met. Besides, she was going to have to ask him for a favor; she supposed she could deal with his rude staring.

"Listen, I should probably tell you now, I don't have any money on me." She saw him stiffen and hurried to continue. "It's cool, man. I'm just saying, when we get to the bar, I'm going to run inside to get your money. No drama. I just don't have it on me, that's all."

"I'll bet."

Now it was Bella's turn to narrow her eyes. "You have a problem, buddy?"

"You get in my cab and expect a ride without a dime in your pocket? What do you want me to say?"

"I told you I'm good for it."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Bella considered getting out of the cab at the next stop, but he was weaving in and out of traffic, driving like a maniac. This was exactly why Bella hated cabs, and he wasn't helping. "My wallet was stolen, that's all."

"Sure. And your spare cash is at a bar at nine in the morning."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I work there, asshole. You'll get your money." Bella crossed her arms and hunkered back in her seat. They were almost there.

"Like I said, I'll believe it when I see it."

When they pulled into the bar's parking lot, Bella opened the door before the car stopped moving. The cabbie parked and was right behind her. She swung on him. "Maybe you should wait here."

He glared, his green eyes dark with malevolence. "So you can slip out the back without paying? I don't think so."

"Jesus Christ. Trust issues much?" Bella shook her head and turned to walk into the bar. He was right on her heels, so close he barreled into her. She shoved him backward. "Hey, get off my nuts. Sorry to be such an inconvenience, but you don't have to be an asshole about it."

Before he could respond, she looked over toward the bar. "Hey, Emmett."

Emmett was looking warily between Bella and the guy, his eyes gone watchful. He straightened up to his full height—several inches taller and _much_ broader than the cabbie—and stared him down. "This guy bothering you, Bells?"

"He's fine. Maybe you want to fix him something to drink on my tab?"

"You think I'm going to drink and drive?" the cabbie asked, his jaw clenched.

"Have a god damned orange juice. Order some tater tot nachos. I'm going to pretend you're being this much of an asshole to someone who's obviously having a bad fucking day because you're hungry."

To his credit, the cabbie seemed ever so slightly abashed by that. He backed off—though that might have been because Emmett had come to stand over him—and didn't say anything else as Bella retreated to the back office in search of her boss.

"Bella, hey. What's wrong?"

It wasn't her boss but his son in the office today. That was better in a lot of ways. James got up from behind the desk and touched her arm. "Are you about to cry?"

Bella blew out a huff of breath. "No," she said, but the word came out shaky. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes. "Just… one of those days."

He guided her into the office chair and began to rub her shoulders. "Tell me what's going on."

She gave him as short a version as she could. "I was going to beg your dad for a loan until tonight. I have money at home. I just need to get this asshat off my back."

"What a fucking prick," James said, shaking his head. "Stay here. I'll give the asshole his money."

"I swear I'm good for it, man. I swear I am. I'll give it back to you tonight."

"Don't even worry about it. You've got enough to deal with today. Sit down and take a breather. I'll get rid of the dickwad, get you some breakfast, and we'll see what you have to cancel."

For the first time in hours, Bella took a deep breath. "Thank you, James. I just… I really needed… Thank you."

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 **A/N: So many thanks to Songster, Barburella, JessyPT, MyOnlyHeroin, and of course, Mina. :) Can't wait to get into this story.**

 **What are we thinking, kids, hmm?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Shorty Mc Short Short chapter. Happy Birthday, Bella Swan. Happy Birthday, Supernatural. Hope the rest of you are having a fabo weekend.**

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Edward was almost sure it was her.

Six years was a long time to remember a woman he'd spent less than twenty-four hours with. He couldn't deny Marie had left her mark on his psyche. She wasn't forgettable, plain and simple. How could he not think often about a woman who'd set off a chain reaction in his life? But in his memory, her physical features had gotten fuzzy around the edges.

Though, if Edward was in the mood to be honest with himself, he had to acknowledge when he thought about Marie, he didn't think about the impact she'd had on his life. When he thought about her, his skin flushed hot, and embarrassment made him writhe.

For a few foolish hours, Marie made Edward believe in love at first sight. He considered himself a highly rational person, ruled mainly by logic rather than emotion. How often had he rolled his eyes as one of his friends seemed to fall in love from one minute to the next, and yet there he was, mooning over a woman, wondering how she could be so perfect. No, he would never forget the first and only woman who'd made a fool of him.

Edward entered the bar, once again feeling foolish. What the hell was he doing here? What did it matter if it was her? In all likelihood, it wasn't. It couldn't be. Bella the Bartender was a stranger who happened to look similar to a woman Edward had met a quarter of his life ago.

He had to know. Now that he'd seen her, the possibility consumed him. It was a need that, try as he might, he hadn't been able to shake for days. Given that he knew where she worked, and that she worked in a public place, he thought there was a chance he could satisfy his curiosity.

Neither of Bella's two guy-friends and co-workers were in sight, and that was good. It had been clear that day they weren't pleased with him. He could imagine they'd be even less so if they saw him skulking around. That in and of itself should have cemented the fact this was a bad idea.

He spotted her right away behind the bar. Again, he admonished himself for being a creeper. Again, that thought didn't stop him. He found a quiet corner cloaked by darkness where he could watch her for a few minutes. He only needed time, he told himself, to compare mental notes-to try to match her with the woman in his memories.

If it was her, she was much changed. He'd watched Marie out of the corner of his eye. He'd hardly been able to take his eyes off her as he drove. Everything about her fascinated him that day. When she relaxed, unwound herself from the tight ball of anxiety she'd curled into when she got in his car, she seemed to enjoy watching the landscape go by. She rolled the window down, and her long, brown hair whipped all around her face. Staring out at the open land, she seemed at peace. Whatever trouble she was running from faded away for a few minutes.

The woman behind the bar had short brown hair done up in a rocker-type wave. She was wearing makeup-dark red lipstick and purple eyeshadow. He remembered Marie had dozed off as the sun came up, and her hood had fallen away to reveal a pretty face unblemished by makeup. Bella moved with confidence-a huge difference from Marie's hunched shoulders and careful glances. She handled bottles, glasses and garnishes with the flirtatious flourish that was the signature of any good bartender.

Of course, that wasn't proof she wasn't Marie. Everything Marie had said and done was suspect. Her innocence and vulnerability had probably been an act.

When a seat opened up at the bar, Edward was ready for a confrontation. He sat down while Bella was busy mixing drinks for a gaggle of college coeds. He watched her, unreasonably fascinated as she sugared the rim of a martini glass. She shook, poured, and served.

"Extra cherries," she said, setting the first drink down. "Extra olives." She set another drink down and then looked up at the third woman. "Extra alcohol," she said with a wink. She poured a shot and handed it to the girl. "Good luck with that one. It's lethal."

Bella collected her tip, pocketing it neatly as she turned to Edward. "Thanks for waiting. What can I-"

Her easy grin fell when she recognized him. He almost felt bad. Almost. He knew he hadn't been gracious about the whole cash debacle a few days before, the day they'd met-or re-met. She'd caught him by surprise, appearing in front of him out of nowhere, and then she'd pulled that shady business about not having money. Like all cab drivers, Edward had heard any number of excuses before he was stiffed a fare. It wouldn't have been out of character if she was Marie.

Bella cleared her throat and glanced down a brief moment as though steeling herself. When she looked up again, she met his eyes with a hard look. "Did James forget to tip you?"

Despite himself, Edward's lips quirked up. When her friend came out to pay the cab fare, his tip had been a suggestion that Edward should get the stick out of his ass, but that was beside the point. "This is a bar, right? I'm thirsty."

She leaned on the counter in classic bartender pose. "What's it going to be?"

"Beer," he said because he hadn't thought about what he was going to order.

She paused, waiting for him to continue. "Got a preference?" There was a hint of annoyance to her tone.

Edward's smile curled up at the side of his face. It was vindictive, but he was somewhat satisfied at the idea he'd thrown her off. _How's it feel, sweetheart?_ "Surprise me."

For a moment it looked like she might argue, but then she shrugged. "Okay, then."

Again, he watched as she worked. This time he kept his eyes on her face. She glanced up at him as she filled his mug, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly when she realized he was staring. Beyond annoyance, he couldn't read the look on her face. If she was Marie, did she remember him?

She licked her lips, diverting his gaze. He felt his own cocky grin fall. He must have stared at Marie's lips a dozen times before he finally kissed her. He remembered how distracted he'd been as they talked in the car. How could lips be so fascinating? But oh, they were when he wanted so badly to know the feel of them against his. Finally, he'd been so fixated, he didn't realize she'd asked him a question. To this day, he had no idea what she'd asked, because before he could ask her to repeat herself, she'd licked her lips just as she had done now. Then, he'd taken a risk and kissed her.

Bella set a mug in front of him hard enough the dark liquid inside sloshed perilously along the sides. His eyes flitted to hers, and he could see the fire of irritation in her glare. "Anything else?"

"That'll do for now," he said, staring back without apology.

Christ, if this wasn't her, he was going to owe this woman the biggest tip in the universe.

"That-"

"I'll start a tab," Edward said before she could tell him what he owed. He didn't want to give her an opening to get rid of him.

She hid a grimace and reached out to take the card he proffered. As she did, he took a drink of his beer-

And promptly spit it out again, having drunk something unexpectedly sugary. He coughed, noting the innocent smirk as she mopped up the mess he'd made. "Surprise," she said sweetly.

Edward coughed into his hand, trying to catch his breath. He'd accidentally inhaled in his shock. "Is that root beer?" he said, his voice raspy.

"Sure is, cowboy," she said and promptly turned to serve one of the other patrons.

Shaking his head, Edward hunkered down to drink his root beer. His eyes followed her, and he wondered if he had a right to be irritated. If she didn't remember him, or if it wasn't Marie at all, he could understand why she was wary about his intentions. She'd made sure he got paid. Him showing up at her work again must have seemed vaguely psychotic.

What he probably should have done at that point was thrown a few dollars down and left the woman alone. Even if she was Marie, who the hell cared? She'd cost him two hundred and sixty dollars back when that kind of money meant very little to him. He wasn't nearly the same person he'd been six years ago. The woman in front of him seemed honest and hardworking.

The thing was, Edward's curiosity about Marie was well-founded. After she'd robbed him and disappeared, Edward had found out a lot of potentially horrible things about the woman he'd picked up on the side of the road. Suffice it to say, it was no surprise she'd been on the run when they met. As far as he knew, Marie was still a fugitive. He could call it socially responsible to figure out if this was the person. Sure, most people might have reported her to the police and let them handle it, but why bother them unless he was sure?

Right.

Finally, she made her way back to him. "Can I get you something else, buddy?"

He put on his most charming smile. "A beverage of the alcoholic variety."

Her cheek twitched. "You gotta be more specific, man."

He leaned on the bar, looking up at her, and his grin widened. "Surprise me," he said.

She stared, as though she was waiting for the punchline of a joke. When he only raised an eyebrow in expectation, she nodded. "You got it."

A minute later, a vaguely familiar looking drink appeared in front of him. His eyes flicked from it to her. "What's this?"

"A beverage of the alcoholic variety," she said without missing a beat.

"Does it have a name?"

"Adios, motherfucker," she said. She smiled, and again disappeared to the other end of the bar.

He laughed to himself as he took a drink and winced. Even for an Adios, it was made strong. It wasn't exactly a subtle message. She wanted him gone one way or another. He couldn't say that he blamed her.

Too bad for her he could hold his liquor.

"So, are you from around here?" he asked when Bella came back to his area.

She'd been cleaning off the bar next to him where a patron had left. She paused mid-swipe to look at him. Taking a step back, she crossed her arms. "Okay, bud. As interesting as this game is, you're going to have to tell me what the heck this is all about."

"It seemed like a relatively simple question."

She narrowed her eyes. "You want me to lay it out straight for you there, bucko? From the second I got in your cab, _before_ I told you I didn't have any money, you've been staring at me. Now, you're here at my work playing games. Your creep-out factor is at plus ninety-five right now. You get me?"

He ducked his head and took a long drink, staring at her over the rim. "You look like someone I used to know."

The movement was so quick, he thought he might have imagined it. Uncertainty flitted across her features for an instant before she looked at him again. "I've got one of those faces, I guess. So you keep glaring at me, because I might be someone who pissed you off once. Sounds like it's my lucky day. What'd she do to piss you off?"

"Took off with almost three hundred dollars and disappeared without a trace," he said, his tone even and his eyes never leaving hers.

Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and then widened. He saw her look him over, and his heart began to beat hard in his chest. "It is you, isn't it?"

She hesitated, her eyes still sweeping over him as though trying to place him.

He leaned forward on the bar so he could speak in a softer voice. "Marie."

The word had a visceral effect. She started, and her whole body went rigid. The color drained from her face. "Edward," she said on a breath.

"Hey! Can we get some service down here?"

Bella looked to the other end of the bar and back to Edward. She blinked as though confused. "I, um. Yeah. I'm on it." She looked dazed as she reluctantly turned toward Edward.

Now, watching her was a whole different ballgame. His heart hurt, though he wasn't sure why. This was the same woman who'd fooled him and wronged him. So why did his heart ache for her now?

Maybe it had something to do with how she seemed completely undone. She had to repeat the asshole at the bar's order three times before she got it right. Then, as she was making the drinks, she fumbled the glasses, sending them crashing to the floor, drinks and all. The bar burst into applause. Bella closed her eyes and breathed deep.

It was a good fifteen minutes before everyone had their drinks and she could get back to him. "I can pay you back," she said. She wasn't looking at him, though she kept her hands busy.

"That's how it's going to be, huh? You replace what you took, and it all just goes away?"

There was irritation in her gaze again when she looked back up at him. She glanced around. "Look, can we not do this here? Whatever _this_ is." She huffed and angrily swiped at a strand of hair that was falling in her eyes. "You're pissed. I get it. Just…" She gestured around them.

Edward dug into his pocket for his wallet and took out a twenty and a five-more than enough to pay for his drinks with an ample tip. "I'll be back," he said, because right about then, he needed to get away from her too.

He headed outside, and she didn't try to stop him. The cold air outside did wonders to soothe his sudden bout of nerves. It was her. After all these years, it was really her.

He didn't want her money, even though he could use it these days. He had her.

Now what on Earth was he going to do about it?

* * *

 **A/N: So many thanks to songster, barburella, MoH, and Packy 2.0 for making my docs a fabulous place.**

 **So! What happens next? No, you tell me this time. Let's switch it up a bit, hmm?**


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